


Shitty Christmas

by snafumoofins



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crushes, F/M, Snowmen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafumoofins/pseuds/snafumoofins
Summary: Being a kid in Annville during Christmas sucks. No snow to make nothin'. Tulip and Jesse sure try, though, and eventually, she has an idea on just how they can make snowmen.





	Shitty Christmas

_‘I'_ _ll soon be there with snow, I'll wash my hair with snow, and with a spade of snow I'll build a man made of snow!'_  

Jesse Custer’s brow is knit in concentration as he watches the four figures sing about snow. He always looks like he’s tryin’ real hard to take a crap when he’s into a show, Tulip thinks, but he’d never admit to liking some ‘ _pansy musical.’ S_ he guesses she could leave him be to enjoy, but the eight-year-old’s thinkin’ on  _snowmen_  and suddenly, she’s elbowing him in the rib  _hard. “Hey!”_ jesse grumbles sourly, shooting her a dirty look, “can’t you just sit still and watch?” Tulip huffs, rolls her eyes, “why do we gotta watch some dumb movie ‘bout snow when we could be makin’  _snowmen_ ,” her gap-toothed grin is just as conspiring as her sly gaze, Jesse crinkling his brow further since he’s still annoyed with her for elbowing him so hard. “C’mon, Jesse, you really wanna watch a  _musical_?” His eyes snap to hers, read the threat in her tone, and like clouds parting in a storm, his expression clears up, “well…’s not any snow ‘round to make no snowmen.” Tulip purses her lips; he’s right. she glances towards John Custer’s office, where she knows he’s doin’ some stupid crap at his desk, probably just hopin’ he’ll hear her curse so he can kick her out (much as she hates the grown-up, her time spent here is cherished something fierce. Tulip would fight  _god_  himself to keep these memories). “We can figure somethin’ out,” she finally says with a confident nod. 

They start with anything and everything that’s white and powdery in the kitchen, quiet as deft little mice as they struggle to clump the mixture of sugar, flour, and baking soda into ball shapes. “Try water,” Tulip suggests, but it all just plain ‘ole  _melts_  when they add it. “ _Dang_ , now we gotta clean it up,” Jesse moans, but it’s quicker to clean with her. They’re real good partners like that, work real good together. 

Next, they try ice from the freezer. They go outside ‘cos Tulip finds a hammer in the closet and they know it won’t be quiet. Tulip and Jesse take turns at smashing ice cubes on a brick and gather a small pile of smashed ice, but it doesn’t clump into much, melts real fast too. 

Tulip wipes her brow on her arm, huffing loudly as she squints her eyes, the kind of way she does when she’s thinking real hard. after a few moments, her eyes brighten, “Hey Jesse, you real fond of the clothes you’re wearing?” he frowns, glances down, “I guess not…” She grabs his arm with a sorta’ crazy grin, “c’mon, get  _Ol Dollor._ ” 

Jesse brings out his rusted, embarrassing (it was given to him by one of the older couples who attended mass, meaning it was an  _old lady_  bike) old bike, named lovingly after one of the  _duke’s_ favorite horses. After Jesse’s on and ready to go, Tulip hops behind him on the banana seat, tossing her arms around his stomach like it’s nothing. Still, Jesse grins faintly to himself, really feels like the ‘ole  _Duke_  himself with a pretty lady on the back’a his horse, and starts riding. “Where’re we headed, ma’am?” he asks in the enunciated southern accent that makes Tulip groan, “Quincannon’s,” she replies, to which he gets a little too stiff over. Last time Jesse saw Mr. Quincannon, he was yelling up a storm at his daddy. Man might do more than tan their hides if they do somethin’ bad, but Jesse ain’t afraid of nothin’ (’cos Tulip isn’t afraid of nothin’ either).

When they arrive, Jesse and Tulip park his bike up alongside the locked gate leading to the pasture. For all the space in Texas, it’s a small pasture. All the cows are tucked in tight together, but they don’t seem to mind too much, Jesse thinks. Still, when he glances over to Tulip, he becomes a little nervous. Her eyes are glazed over, mouth closed, but slack, like something’s really bothering her about the sight. He nudges his shoulder to hers, biting at his lower lip, “you good?” she doesn’t look at him or bump him back, just spits at the gate in front of them, “Not right, keepin’ them like this. they didn’t ask for it. just ‘cos they’re all meat cows doesn’t mean they should get stuck together so tight they can’t move an’ then killed with their whole family,” he’s never seen Tulip cry, but for some reason, she looks close to it now, and that makes Jesse mad. real mad. “Whatever your idea is, it can wait,” he says before he glances around, spots a shed a few paces away. Workers are sparse since it’s close to Christmas, and they’ll have plenty of time before anyone notices anything’s wrong. 

Tulip waits while Jesse jogs over to the shed, taking a few moments before returning with a pair of clippers that Tulip’s seen QM&P men use to hack off bull’s balls before. “Here,” Jesse hands them to her. Tulip realizes what he’s intending for her to do, and suddenly, her heart feels light. He  _gets_  it, and even if he doesn’t, he’s trying to help anyway. She looks to the ground, smiling like a dang idiot, “thanks,” is all she says, and Jesse looks real proud of himself. With all her might, Tulip pulls the clippers in on the lock over the gate to pasture, falling on her ass when it breaks. Once the lock’s off, Tulip pulls the gate open, calls, “C’mon now, y’all are free to leave. Get on outta here, real far away,” at first, nothing happens, but a soft-eyed steer takes a few steps out. she turns to Tulip and Jesse with a swing of her large head that makes both of them hesitate, afraid she’ll charge, but all’s she does it take a big sniff of both of them, uttering a soft grunt before ambling along out. Soon enough, the others follow, ‘till a big ‘ole crowd of them, like the kinds cowboys would herd, are making their merry way from their death sentence.

“C’mon!” Tulip calls, running into the pasture, to which Jesse grimaces, “That’s a bunch’a cow shit, Tulip” he hollers after her, but she’s already digging her hands into it, “Naw, it’s snow!” she replies. Jesse doesn’t move an inch, nose wrinkled, he glances off, trying to seem real  _cool_ , but an impact to his chest makes him yelp. a huge, brown stain coats his chest, a dang  _smelly_  one, and Tulip O’Hare is grinning over at him triumphantly. “Okay, well, I guess I  _gotta_ ,” Jesse sighs, running in after her. 

That evening, Odin Quincannon glanced at his cameras, turned away, frowned, glanced back, cleaned his glasses, and widened his eyes ‘till they  _bulged_. his yell carried a good distance, and all he found left of his profits for the next month was a goddamn  _snowman_  made outta shit. 

“I didn’t even think no snow angel would work in all’a that, Tulip!” “Yeah. Good think it’s break or we’d smell like  _shit_  the whole week in school an’ Donnie’s gang would hound on us like we were bones,” “J _esse Custer_ , what is this?” Both children froze as John Custer moved in on them as they reached the steps to the church. “Sir, uh—we…” Jesse froze up like an ice cube. Tulip knows he’s scared of his daddy. His daddy’s an  _asshole_. beats his kid like he’s  _S_ a _tan_  or somethin’. She’s quick, though, and she knows a girl’s gotta watch out for her guy. Suddenly, Tulip snivels, whips a cruddy hand against her face, “We was just out playin’ an’…them boys from school…they… _sniff_ …they threw some cow shi—uh… _cow deposits_  at me an’ Jesse stood up for me, but we got in a big fight ‘bout it.” 

The elder Custer stares at the O'Hare girl like a hawk, expression cold. A few moments pass before he gives a sigh, “This true, Jesse?” followed by an immediate, “Y _essir!” J_ ohn furrows his brow a little, giving a nod, “Hose is out back. Don’t track into the church,” before he’s turning from them, trailing up the steps to the church. 

Once he’s gone, Tulip slings an arm around Jesse’s shoulders, face so close her nose smudges against his cheek, “Well, now, betcher real glad i was around t’save your butt from a hidin’, huh?” Jesse cringes a little, ‘cos she’s a  _girl_ , but beneath the manure on his face, he’s red as Saint Nick’s nose, “ _Yeah_ , i guess,” “We’re just even now, is all, ‘cos you just gave me the best dang Christmas  _ever_ ,” she kisses his sodden cheek before drawing away from him, giving him a small punch on the arm (’cos she’s gotta make sure he isn’t thinkin’ he’s  _special_  or nothin’ since she gave him a ‘lil kiss), and stretches her arms above her head, “Anyway, last one to the hose has to scrub our shoes,” and, as always, she takes off before he has a chance to react.

Jesse puts up with it, though. anything for Tulip O'Hare. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a short, quick little thing I wanted to write. Enjoy <3


End file.
